True Colors of the World
by Bethy1416
Summary: AU - A twist on the Blue Bird ending. What if Lisbon hadn't have been persuaded to stay by Jane's endearing words? Will be quite angsty, something I've not really tried before. But hang with me!
1. Prologue

_A/N: __I just want to thank Charline ( wellthatslucky) on Twitter for providing me with the original idea for this fic. I have now joined the dark side with her, as I surprised myself by enjoying writing this._

_Warning: there shall be angst, as well as upset. And a happy ending is possible, although it depends how I'm feeling when I write it. This is a multichapter fic, and I can't promise updates will be regular. Anyhow, enjoy this twist on things!_

**_Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, nor do I make money from writing this._**

**Prologue**

Jane sat in the padded chair, his injured ankle elevated on a seat opposite him. He'd done the thing that scared him most, played his cards, and now he just waited. This was the first time since he'd met the tiny, kickass agent that he was unable to predict what she'd do. She'd moved on and had prepared herself for a fulfilled life with Agent Pike. Jane knew he should've supported her and urged her to go, it'd be good for her. Instead he pulled some crap by digging up an old case just to give him time to grasp his act together. It hurt him to remember the ample times she'd given him to say his true opinions on the ridiculous dream world she'd wrapped herself in. She knew just as well as he did that you could only experience so many dates in a month, not to mention sacrificing her well respected position in the FBI along with the team and friends she'd grown to trust, all for the first man that had shown interest in her when she needed company most. Jane genuinely believed she harbored respect for Marcus, but love? He wasn't so sure.

The TSA officer looked pityingly at him before leaving the room, clearly baffled by why this man had felt the need to illegally board a plane to admit these clearly relentless feelings to a woman who had already given up on him. Jane had told him the truth, so there was no doubt this question was running through the officer's mind.

That's when he heard the soft click of the door opening, dragging him out of his thoughts with a hazy gleam in his eye. She drifted to the chair opposite him with a swift shrug of her shoulders to remove her coat, and then seated herself down with grace he'd never seen from her before. She seemed particularly isolated, lost. They simply sat in silence for a few seconds, both trying to build the confidence back up to get their words out. She fiddled with the strap of her bag, watching him intently for a sign of regret, but she saw nothing, just a cave of a lonely man.

"Say something…" He muttered, shifting his eyes back onto her. He was afraid to look at her in case he read something he didn't wish to believe…

"I'm sorry…" She began, gently. He nervously nodded his head, as he'd done in the hospital not long ago when Lisbon had told him about Pike's offer. He understood.

"I'm not holding you to anything here, Teresa. I can't offer you the life he's providing you with, I can't meet the expectations you deserve."

She stilled her hands that were moistening in the palms.

"We need to move on, Jane." Her voice was dry, as if tears had soaked up the usual sweet tune in her words. "Both of us."

"What if I have? What if you're how I move on?"

"There are too many 'what ifs.'"

"I'm not going to force you to stay, but you need to know things. _Please_, give me a little time and privacy to share them with you?"

"The delay will be cleared in an hour, there's no time."

"Please?" he begged, leaning on the table. "Hear me out. I'll let you leave if you still want to."

She shuffled closer and bent her head so she was at eye level with him. "I've given you enough chances and enough of my time, and don't you dare think I need your permission to leave," she hissed, the icy tone stinging with every syllable.

"I didn't mean it like that, Teresa. You know I didn't."

"Just know that I have spent all I can give to you. This was the final straw, Jane, and you took it."

"Fine, just listen to me! I'll take one minute, maybe less! You can time me."

She leant back in her chair, and crossed her arms.

"I had to tell you how I felt; I couldn't handle the idea of coping with these feelings alone, constantly building up. You know the saying; absence makes the heart grow fonder. The thought of not seeing you scared me. Petrified me, even. My heart has not been exercised in this way for over a decade, and it scares me to consider that this longing ache could swell beyond my capabilities. I'm willing to risk it, if you won't accept me, I _understand _if you won't accept me, but I just had to know. Now that I do, I can't hold you back anymore, you're free to go whenever you please… I merely hope you believe me… Do you?"

She hesitated, letting his words process in her brain. It frustrated her that he hadn't said this earlier in the planning of her move to DC. She'd given him so many chances, so many moments to say it. She'd been too harsh with him a few minutes ago, she knew that, and yes, she did believe him…

"Yeah, yeah I do…" She whispered, almost inaudibly.

"But it hasn't changed your mind?.."

She restrained the misty glaze in her eyes from trickling over the edge and he knew her answer when her dark fan of lashes dabbled her cheeks to cage the tears.

"It's okay…" he reassured her. "I'll always be here for you though, don't forget that." He offered a saddened smile, which she mirrored. She nervously glanced at the table and then started pulling on her jacket.

"Bye…" She murmured, and then got up to leave, abandoning him in the TSA office with his forefinger anxiously tapping his upper lip.

Things weren't the same, and he doubted whether they ever would be again.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

It had been ten days since Lisbon had left, her delayed flight rescheduled and actually leaving Austin the second time round. As he'd feared, her absence had forced his heart to contract every time his thoughts latched onto her. The thing that scared him most, however, was that it had_ only been_ ten days and it was already hurting this much. He'd weakened to the self-pitying state he'd vowed with himself that he would never reach again. Yet here he was.

The team had acknowledged that Lisbon leaving was going to hit Jane hard. He'd perhaps request time off, isolate himself or put on a poker face. Instead, his work ethic had strengthened, his mind only wandering when he was sat on his couch; or so they thought. The truth was, he wanted to prove to himself, Lisbon, and the team that he could still close cases without her. Plus, he needed to learn to cope with it sooner or later, he still had at least another four years working under the deal him and Abbott had drawn up, the nearest to an exoneration for the murder of Red John that he was going to get.

The out of work hours were the most difficult to handle, surprisingly. He was alone, meaning he had time to think and silence to fill with his thoughts and pain. He'd always been awaiting, expecting, a call from Lisbon, telling him about a new case or updating him on the evidence they'd gathered. Now, his cell never rang in the evening. It wouldn't ring at all if Abbott and Wylie stopped notifying him a few times a week.

When he'd confessed his feelings for Lisbon, he'd also confessed them to himself. Saying them aloud had made it real, it was no longer a simmering affection that he could ignore. He'd meant everything he'd said on the plane. He was terrified and he couldn't imagine not seeing her everyday... Even whilst currently living it, he couldn't.

As the eleventh day dawned, he threw the comforter aside, as he'd been waiting to do for at least two hours. Sleep was rare. He slipped on his suit jacket over the disheveled shirt and left his Airstream. From there, he crossed the parking lot to the main doors of the FBI glassed building. He'd moved the Airstream there in the past week, finding it easier to settle at night with the hum of traffic fighting away the silence that swallowed his thoughts. Abbott had agreed to it, as had Director Schultz, who both claimed it meant he wouldn't be late to work again with the benefit of keeping an eye on him. Of course, Jane knew Abbott had linked this sudden rearrangement with Lisbon's departure from his life and the team, and neither him nor Schultz questioned his motives.

He was preparing a cup of tea in the break room when Abbott approached him.

"Jane," Abbott greeted, standing near the island in the middle of the kitchenette.

Jane's lips drew into a thin, shallow smile. "Abbott."

"How are you?"

"Perfectly well." This was a repeated conversation that he had with members of the team on a regular basis now.

"Good… Then my news shan't come as a dreadful surprise…"

He took a sip of the bland mix he'd just brewed. "And what's that?"

"Agent Samia Porter shall be joining us today. She's transferring from the FBI field office in LA."

"She'll be replacing Lisbon?"

"Yes, she's on a two day trial period."

"You're unsure, or she's unsure?"

"The director is unsure. Porter hasn't worked in a Department of Justice unit before, we need to see how she takes it."

"And you'll know in two days?" He said, a hint of judgement in his voice.

"We'll have a better idea as to whether her training and experience is suitable for the role here."

"Very well." Jane shifted, making it clear he wanted to leave.

"Jane," Abbott said again. "You two will often find yourselves in the field together."

"The problem is?"

"There's no problem, I just wanted you to know."

"Well, thanks for plenty of notice," he exclaimed sarcastically as he walked out the door to meet his couch.

Abbott remained, shaking his head with a smirk at the consultant's remark.

When Jane had comfortably positioned himself on his couch, settling the saucer on his lap with a long finger still hooked through the cup's handle, Fischer edged towards him.

"Jane," she smiled. He reluctantly held back the need to roll his eyes as the scripted sounding conversation started again.

"Kim."

"How're you today?"

"Well."

"That's good… good… Abbott spoke to you?"

"Indeed."

"How're you feeling about the new recruitment?"

"I'll get back to you on that one," he said as he stood and strode straight past her. She frowned, confused, then spun around to see that he was speaking to someone in front of the elevator.

"I'm Patrick Jane," he introduced, holding out his free hand for her to shake. "You must be Samia Porter?"

"Yes… How did you know?"

"I recommend not asking that for the simple things. Wait until you're really hung up on something, then bank it in."

"I'm sorry?"

He waved his hand around for a few seconds, trying to summon the right words to describe his confusing nature. "I have a tendency to… be a little excessive. Hurl around some hunches and accusations. Nothing to worry about. Just think about things before you ask questions, no doubt you already know the answer." He sighed. "I can see we'll get along just soundly."

"Agent Porter," Abbott interrupts, appearing beside them.

"Dennis Abbott?"

"Yes. Let's go to my office." He glanced a warning glare at Jane, before returning his gaze to the pretty faced agent with a smile. "I'll lead the way."

They both walked off down the corridor leaving Jane stood on the unit's emblem printed onto the floor. He looked down at his feet, catching a glimpse of his handmade socks from Washington and turned to step into the elevator.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Abbott and Porter were walking side by side to his office when she summoned the courage to speak.

"Agent Jane is a member of your team?" She asked gingerly, having not figured out whether her boss was someone to which you could ask questions.

"He's a consultant on a contract with the FBI, I was nice enough to take him in," he turned his head to smile at her with the hidden humour in that response.

"I feel there's a story behind his recruitment then."

"You could say that."

They continued walking, now in a comfortable silence until they reached the door with his ranking and name inscribed on a plaque, slotted into the metal holder.

"Please, take a seat," he gestured, closing the door behind them. "I hear you've worked a case with us before?"

"Yes, Sir. In my rookie years I worked the Hutchison case. The unsub was transferring documents linked with terrorist plots to a man named, Lee Ahmed, who at the time resided in Texas. We brought you in on the case to help catch them before any plans went underway. The operation was a success and only a minor threat, but we were unsure if, or when, it could spiral into something bigger."

Abbott had settled into the chair behind his desk, listening intently. "I remember hearing about that case. A SWAT team took them down."

"Yes, Sir, accompanied by some of your agents."

"They weren't my agents at the time, Porter, I can't take the credit."

"It's still an honour to work with you here, and with the FBI, Sir."

He huffed out a laugh, amused. "You're aware of the work we do then? As I'm sure you can imagine, things can get pretty hectic."

"Like with any unit, Sir."

He smirked at that. _Any unit that doesn't have Jane has not experienced chaos._

"Do you have questions?"

"The agent I'm replacing… Teresa Lisbon. Is there anything I need to know about fitting into her role?"

He'd hoped she'd find out about Jane herself, his troublesome ways and mostly illegal schemes.

"You want the truth, or a few hours of sugar coated facts before the hard faced ones are revealed ?" He joked, receiving a nervous smile from the young agent.

"Tell me the important stuff, the rest can be sugar coated until it's thrown in my face." They chuckled, him more understanding of how true that statement will become.

"Okay… Well, Lisbon and Jane transferred here together from a corrupt law agency in Sacramento a few months ago. They'd worked together for a long time before that and she was the only one that truly had a handle on him. Sometimes I questioned whether he even listened to anything the rest of us said. She somehow managed to control him, a trick I have yet to learn. He's been laying low the past couple of weeks since her transfer, so I believe you're safe from any of his misbehavior for now. Agent Cho, who you'll meet in due course, is also a member of our team. He used to work on Lisbon's old team in Sacramento, along with Jane. So at least for your trial period, we'll palm Jane off to Cho when out in the field. You'll be fine, I can assure you. But any trouble with him, report back to me."

She seemed a little uneasy, perching on the edge of the leather chair, but enthusiastic. "If my trial period goes well and I'm permanently transferred, will I be working with Mr Jane in the field?"

"There's a large possibility, but things could change. As I said, Lisbon was the only one who seemed to have any impact on him, that's why they were often partnered. Now she's gone, we'll probably have shifts to babysit him, oh joy. He's currently dealing with her leaving, but he seemed to warm to you, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about, Agent. Anything else?"

"No, Sir. I'm ready to start."

"Great. Head back to the bullpen, the rest of the team should be there. Acquaint yourselves and hopefully a case will come in soon."

"Yes, Sir."

She got up, walked to the door, pushing back her shoulders, and braced herself for the next two days.

Jane had decided to take a stroll. He didn't know why but he'd craved fresh air. He wandered around aimlessly for a good half an hour, his teacup and saucer still in hand, then went to his Airstream. He thought about Samia, with her slightly naive gaze and pinned back brunette hair. She reminded him a lot of Grace when she had first joined the CBI. Porter seemed to have more experience, more cases filed in her head than Grace did, but he could tell Grace would have the upperhand with technology. Porter's trimmed nails suggested guitarist or pianist, which fitted the elegance she carried. Her hair was straightened, then tied up, did she naturally have a head of gentle waves or corkscrew curls? He pictured her with both, then settled on an unruly mess of meandering locks. She was youthfully attractive, definitely looking younger than she was. He pitched mid to late twenties. Lack of makeup, sturdy boots with a slight heel, yet a height just above average. He didn't delve into predicting her history- there appeared to be a lot- because he already knew she would mention stories of her past the more she grew in comfort around the team.

He prepared a fresh cup of tea in the Airstream, hoping the open air had awakened his taste buds and this brew would be more flavorsome. He took it with him outside, where he unfolded a lightweight, canvas garden chair on the concrete of the parking lot and watched the busy hub of agents. That's when he truly got to thinking; schemes and plans; imagined conversations filled with false hope; Marcus and Teresa.

As he'd wished, this tea offered a taste to please his palate and unsettled stomach. People often referred to this uneasy feeling as "butterflies" in your tummy, but in all truthfulness, it felt like a small snake was nestled in his pit, its tongue fluttering at regular intervals. He felt weighted, with streaks of adrenaline passing through him when that snake's forked tongue tickled his insides. He wasn't sure whether the adrenaline was of excitement or nervousness for the selfish thoughts he'd just concocted. He couldn't do anything yet, he had to gather some more information before making hypotheticals reality.

* * *

><p>Lisbon was settling nicely in DC. Her and Pike had arranged the furniture in their simple reside. He mostly agreed enthusiastically with what she said, she wasn't sure whether it was to make things easy, or because he shared a similar decor taste as her. It was practical, rather than homely, and she was certain it was something that just took some getting used to. Besides, they wouldn't be spending that much time at home, given their devotion to their new jobs. By the end of the first week attending the DC offices, she felt like Marcus was just a roommate, not her partner. Either he was working, or she was. If luck was on their sides, they'd greet each other over the kitchen island in the morning with a quick peck before hurrying out the door with a breakfast bar in their hands.<p>

Pike worked in a different department to Lisbon, so at work she was void of familiar faces. She didn't make a fuss. She knew he was in the same position as her, and he wasn't complaining, plus she was used to being independent. But this was the first time in nearly two decades that she'd been recruited on a team where they were all strangers. Joining the FBI was a big leap for her, even though she didn't make it out to be. The FBI. It received far more recognition than the CBI ever did, every movement was tracked, it felt like. On that team she already knew Cho and Jane. She knew they had her back. Now, she didn't trust anyone, with time she would come to have faith in her colleagues, but not yet. Even with her independence outside of work for all those years, to suddenly be thrown into it on the job too was the scariest part of the entire move. She was completely alone. Her home life wasn't particularly familiar either, even if Marcus was there. Is this what Jane had felt like for years? Returning to an empty motel room, to repeat the same damned routine everyday. Is this how her life would turn out? By the end of the year, was she to be caught in a vicious daily cycle?

She was surprised however, by how easy life was to live without Jane. The two years he'd been away had mainly been taken up with getting over the idea of not seeing him again. Then the trouble started with the FBI, having to meet his terms. She was glad to be back with him, to see his unshaven face and the mischievous gleam in his eye. But she was finally able to appreciate the calm of two years without his troublesome plans. She loved his company sometimes, but he caused her so much hassle and pain throughout the years, she had lost the energy to keep dealing with his stupid stings and hunches.

Damn, even reminding herself of all the bad things he'd done she still missed him. Was he over her leaving now? It was almost two weeks later. She wasn't sure how she felt about his absence at this point. She knew what she was expected to feel; a sense of relief, a bit of loss and possibly a hint of a future. But she wasn't sure that's truly what she felt, even though she wanted desperately to believe so. She had a life with a man she cherished and who cherished and adored her. More than Jane could ever give. She remembered back to his surprise appearance on the plane. The slight limp as he was marched down the aisle by a security officer. The drained look in his eyes as she sat opposite him in the TSA room. She'd never properly looked into the gaze of a man in love. Nor had she ever dealt with that herself. What was it she'd seen in his eyes that day?

She'd fallen into a heavy daydream at her desk in the study, a case file's contents spread across the surface. Suddenly two hands rested on her shoulders, the thumbs rubbing in circular motions. She glanced to her left, already knowing the waist she'd be eye level with.

"Hey," she muttered.

"I'm home for the night," Marcus shared suggestively, leaning down to murmur into her ear.

Her shoulders slumped. "I've got to finish with this." She motioned to the paperwork.

With the atmosphere completely disintegrated by her lack of enthusiasm, he stretched back up to tower over her crumpling form.

"Are you missing him?" He questioned.

"Who? Jane? No."

"Then what's bothering you?"

She pulled away from his touch and swivelled round in the chair, leaning back into the padding. "Nothing. I-I'm just finding work… a little demanding. I'm fine, honestly."

He considered her response then decided to disregard the matter. "You eaten yet?"

"Uh, I grabbed a take out box of sushi on the way home. I'd assumed you'd be working until the early hours again."

"No problem. I'll fix myself some toast."

"I'll finish up here."

He nodded, watched her curiously, then turned and left with his arms crossed. She puffed out her cheeks and swung back to the desk. She picked up a picture of the crime scene, the body splayed on the baking concrete. The image beneath that was of the victim's face, the eyes staring straight down the camera lense, sending a chill through her soul. They'd wrapped this one today and had taken the file home to complete the case report. However, her thoughts wandered to the team she'd trusted and left behind. All for a man she'd known for weeks. _A month even._

Perhaps this was the reality she'd been refusing to face.

_A/N: This chapter's content wasn't particularly interesting. But things should start moving and become a little more intriguing in the next chapter, so please bear with me and this fic. It _is _going somewhere :)_


	4. Chapter Three

_A/N: Finally! I updated this. Things, plot wise, develop and hopefully get more interesting in this chapter. Sorry it took so long to update, I got writer's block for this fic, plus the finale caused my mind to spin when comparing this fic, to the beautiful nuptials of White Orchids! I hope this chapter persuades you to stick with me for this fic :)_

**Chapter Three**

Jane returned to the bullpen to inform Abbott that he was taking the next several days off. He caught the eye of the new Agent Porter, sat primly behind Lisbon's old desk, her leathered briefcase on the floor beside her.

"Samia," Jane greeted. He tilted his head to the side, trying to get a glance past the manicured persona, or act, as he soon figured.

"Mr Jane."

"Tell me… Piano or guitar?"

"Uh, well… both actually."

"Ah." He looked to his feet with a taught smile, one that didn't quite reach the creases of which held the memories of happiness and laughter. "But you're better at piano?"

"Grade seven."

"Wow, that's impressive. I'm guessing… your interests strayed before completing grade eight?"

"I began training at Quantico." She sent him a gaze of uncertainty as to where this was going.

"Where they toughen up citizens and create steel faced agents."

Her eyebrows furrowed together, disliking his stereotype.

"I'm just messing with you," he smiled, liking the reaction he got from her. "See you later." He twisted on his heel and walked away to find Abbott.

Jane wandered straight into Abbott's office, the open door being the only invitation he needed.

"Jane, what can I do for you?" the burly man asked.

"I've come to inform you I'm taking the next week off."

The agent leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together in his lap.

"Okay."

"Thanks," he said swiftly and headed toward the door again.

"Jane... Where are you going?"

"To my Airstream."

"I technically haven't given my consent for your leave."

He frowned and his thumb and forefinger started rubbing together. "Um… Yeah… May I take time off?"

Dennis paused, a silent acknowledgement of his request. "Why?" He then asked.

"Uh..." he paused, rubbing his thumbs together, evidently preparing to share some personal news. "My old Carnie bunch recently lost someone… They wished for me to join them for the traditional funeral ceremony. Plus, I've not had chance to visit them since a child was born into their family."

"I'm sorry to hear that..." the agent said sincerely. "I can allow five days leave, is that suitable?"

A bit miffed at the decrease of time from his request he nodded his head. "It'll have to be."

"Good… Well, give my sympathies and… congratulations."

Jane bowed his head with apparent gratefulness and turned to leave.

"Jane... If this is some cover for a plan involving Lisbo-"

"Dennis, why would I do that? I wish to visit the only family I have, who're mourning a loss. Besides, Lisbon can do what she pleases. Not everything results in my scheming"

"She was one of your terms. Now that she's gone, has the deal changed?"

Jane shook his head with a wide grin and laughed mockingly. "No."

"Good. Go. I'll see you in a few days. I hope this time off proves useful."

"I'm sure it will," he reassured and walked out the door with a little more life in his step than what he'd entered with.

He walked to the nearest main road and managed to flag down a taxi. When this plan got unearthed, cops were going to be all over his trail.

Jane was dropped off three blocks from his desired destination, trying not to leave any form of path. He purchased a taco to accompany his walk, which he lingered outside the glassed doors of the library to finish before heading in.

He crossed the children's section to reach the computers' area. He scanned the rows for an isolated spot, at least safe from prying eyes and then settled into a plastic chair beside an elderly local who was having enough trouble working her own computer to worry about his. Besides, he doubted she'd remember him if police somehow contacted her later in the 'operation.' Dementia, a bitter twist of old age.

He opened up the internet and typed in the department and DC offices Lisbon had transferred to, noting down the address on an expired receipt from his pocket. She'd not shared her new home address with him, most probably due to his lack of interest and changing of subject whenever she brought it up. He was sure she'd told someone on the team, probably Fischer, but he couldn't risk asking, nor searching it up on the FBI database. It was all too risky. People would see straight through his plan and stop it before anything had even begun.

That wasn't like Lisbon though… to leave without giving him any contact details other than her cell number. He considered the possibility that she'd left a note for him, hidden in a place only he would find it. This wasn't the first time he'd thought about her doing this. Perhaps she was sending him a letter, or building the courage to send a text. However, he was once again reminded about how they'd parted. A sizzling layer of anger just simmering under her surface, guilt and foolishness under his. She'd been generous enough to make sure she didn't leave with a bitter stab in their friendship, instead one of… he supposed, sympathy and embarrassment. That was something he could work with, something he could tease and manipulate into a compatible relationship, a masterpiece.

He snatched up the receipt then stuffed it into an inside pocket of his blazer and logged off. He then smiled sweetly at the frail old woman beside him and left the library as briskly as he'd walked in. He didn't care if they'd put an APB out on the Airstream if he went over his given time off. He just needed to make sure that they wouldn't figure out where he was, at least not before he'd gotten to the nucleus of his plan… a day more could be all he'd need. CCTV meant they'd track his moves to the library, find his search on their database and get him within an hour. That couldn't happen.

Once he'd returned to the familiar lot of the FBI parking lot he withdrew the Airstream's keys and jumped into the driver's seat. Everything had remained packed away and prepared for travel since he'd moved a week earlier; forward planning at its best. He started up the engine, signalled, then began the long journey down the twisted path of his future, plus the day long drive ahead of him.

Lisbon was stood in line in the bureau's cantine, wallet open preparing to pay for the jacket potato she'd just ordered. The catering system ran well, considering the number of staff they had to provide for. Select your meal, place your order, move on to pay, a waiter serving at each station. A clockwork scheme that'd please the likes of Jane. He'd often complained about the inconsequential layout of the FBI cafeteria, concluding with him either stealing her sandwiches from the kitchenette on their floor, or concocting his own in the Airstream. She shook her head with a smile, reminiscing about how the petty things always bothered him. Her turn finally came and she handed over a few dollar notes then collected a knife and fork from the cutlery station. She took her food over to a table beside the window and enjoyed the top story view of hefty buildings and busy roads, with a glimmer of the river in the far distance between trees, steeples and office blocks. She looked down to the street below as agents came and went, many with a trusty to-go coffee in their hands, much like the one in front of her now. Police cruisers lined one side of the road with intervals of black SUVs.

Granted, the view from the CBI rooftop cafe was far more appealing; with a clear sight across the homes and businesses, to the river slicing through the landscape and the bridge planted tall above the rest of the city.

Jane had been correct; there were no pelicans or sailboats in DC, but she highly doubted he'd be seeing those again any time soon when working in the FBI headquarters located just outside of Downtown Austin's rolling lands of the Texas Hill Country, the ocean past the horizon and miles still beyond that!

She finished her lunch and took her polystyrene cup of coffee down to her desk in the bullpen. She kindly greeted her boss on the way past, who nodded his head in return, then crossed the briefing area to settle into her chair. She caught sight of Matthew Adams, the technical analyst of their team, watching her. He was the first person she'd been introduced to, even prior to her chief, and had insisted on accompanying her on her first trip out in the field. It was merely an act of kindness, she'd done the same with Cho when he had first arrived at the CBI, Jane too, of course. Matthew consistently corrected her whenever she called him Adams, always preferring the agents to refer to him with his Christian name. He was slightly younger than Jane, by a couple of years she guessed and unfailingly turned up to work ten minutes early every day, wearing the same dress code: a pressed shirt, suit pants and shiny black shoes. To begin with the lack of tie and jacket seemed to hit Teresa like a tonne of bricks, having spent the first half an hour in the building with cloned men, each a replica of the last, attired with a full two piece suit, a neatly knotted tie and an orderly trimmed hairline. Seeing this slightly disheveled, but punctual member of her new team brought a huge wave of comfort to her. Perhaps that said a lot about her character and her past…

She returned his inquisitive gaze with a friendly smile, then set about doing research on the computer in front of her. A few brief moments later he appeared behind her monitor, waiting for her attention patiently.

"_Matthew_," she said, stressing his first name as she remembered his request. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if you've eaten? L-lunch I mean."

"I just got back," she winced, the disappointment ebbing onto his face. "Sorry."

"No problem, but next time we're going together. Nothing like some well mannered, good hearted conversation to accompany a meal."

"You mean you eat alone?"

"Why does that surprise you?"

She smirked, "Well… you always seem to want good relationships with your colleagues, a first name basis usually suggests that. I'm just surprised that you aren't swarmed with people."

"I'm very rarely sociable…" he glances down at his shoes, slightly embarrassed. At hearing her restrained giggle, as she tried to have sympathy for him, he lifted his head with renewed confidence and a smile stretching across his freshly shaven cheeks.

"You mean this office persona-"

"Is literally just an act. I have picky tastes with the people that I converse with on a personal level. You're one of the few."

"Well, I am honoured," she joked, which left them each with mirrored grins. "Come on," she stated, rising from her chair and collecting her coffee.

"Where are we going?"

"I'll come sit with you whilst you eat your lunch."

His expression flashed from flattered to shocked in a split second."Really?"

"Yeah! I mean, it's not like we're rushed off our feet."

"For your kind heartedness, _Teresa_, I shall purchase a blueberry muffin just for you!"

"How did you know?!"

"That it's your favourite? You're not the only trained professional. I notice you bring them back from the cafeteria..." He turned to her with an even bigger smile than before as they stood side by side in the elevator. She clicked the button for the top floor and remembered who this man so fondly reminded her of.

By the time Jane decided to bunk down it was midnight and he'd entered the capitol of Tennessee, Nashville, having spent just over twelve hours driving with only three toilet and tea stops. He was exhausted, but the thought that he'd be at his destination this time tomorrow gave him hope and the willpower to continue, not to mention the entire reason for him exercising this great task. He wondered how tomorrow's plans would go; smoothly would be too much to ask for, the Blue Bird Lodge case had proven that.

He found a quiet side road and pulled into a truckers' layby, cut the engine and heaved himself out of his chair. The soft padding seemed to have gradually morphed into stone throughout the course of the day, his thighs and bottom currently feeling rather numb. He stretched then strode to the small living area, forcefully patting his upper legs to try and regain some sensation. He prepared his insomnia antidote, a fresh cup of chamomile tea, an old trick that never seemed to work except these past few weeks. Perhaps a dash of hope with chamomile was the perfect concoction for the night restlessness. Whilst waiting for the water to boil he unbuckled and slipped the belt from the hoops of his pants, a new garment that was more than an accessory to his slimming waistline. He shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned a couple more of the top buttons on his shirt. He glanced down at the thin cotton garment, fitted for his form by the stylish tailor from the sunny haven he'd resided in for two years. Maybe it was about time to break out the plainer fabrics or even indulge in purchasing some new ones. Although this shirt was only new a few months back, he did wonder whether its faint swirling print altered his impression on people. He knew Lisbon had accepted his new look; the stubbled jaw, summer shirts and lack of vest. But for an FBI employee no one had told him to sharpen his look. He found it peculiar to say the least.

The piercing whistle of the kettle shot through his thoughts and he continued making his tea. Once finally draining the last dribble down his throat he clambered onto the sheeted thin mattress and shuffled around until he found a position of comfort. Minutes later the long drive caught up with him and he dozed off into somewhat of a peaceful sleep.

He awoke to the harsh glare of the white morning sun and the slamming of the truck's doors of which he was sharing the layby with. He could hear the frantic hum of rush hour traffic and suddenly leapt out of bed, checking his watch. _Shit. _It was later than he'd planned to set off. He'd hoped he could make it onto the interstate before the city's streets got snarled up. He threw on his suit jacket, the fresh morning air sending rippling shivers over his body as he swiftly glided behind the steering wheel. He followed the truck out of the layby but swung out in the opposite direction, heading back to the busy centre of the city.


End file.
